


You Wanna Say That Again?

by Bishie Huntress (Artemystic)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Crossover, Gen, It couldn't be helped, Star Wars reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemystic/pseuds/Bishie%20Huntress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A typical scene between Roy, Ed, and Al. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Wanna Say That Again?

**Author's Note:**

> It's short. It's dumb. I had to write it. I'm thinking about continuing it. Maybe...

Roy Mustang stared. _You have got to be kidding me._ “Aren’t you a little short for a Spartan?” The words just sort of fell out of his mouth without any say-so from his brain, and the other soldier froze.

“I beg your pardon?” a voice that sounded far too young for a soldier growled, the lines of his back tense. The Spartan next to him sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, but it was shrugged off. He turned around and marched over to Roy, boots clanging loudly on the metal plates of the corridor. “You wanna say that again, soldier?”

The other Spartan’s glove hit his faceplate. “You’ve really done it now,” he groaned, and if anything, his voice sounded younger than the first.

Roy refused to be intimidated. Dropping his rifle into the mag holster on his back, he put his hands on his hips and made a show of straightening and looking down at the soldier whose helmet only barely reached the level of his collarbone. This close, he could make out the hint of eyes tinted yellow by the faceplate, see the reflection of stars from the starboard window. The harsh light above them gleamed dully on his scuffed black helmet. “I’d like to say ‘I’ll say it to your face, but….” He let the sentence trail off meaningfully.

“The _fu_ —Did you hear that?” the short Spartan said over his shoulder. “This guy must really want a piece of me.”

Roy took a step back and gave the soldier a once-over, head to toe. “It’s a _little_ hard to tell with all the armor, _kid_ , but I rather doubt the entirety of you could even qualify as ‘a piece’.”

The short soldier lunged. “Oh, you are going _down!_ ” he snarled, but the other soldier grabbed onto him with both arms.

“Wait!” he said. “Remember how much trouble you got into last time?”

Roy cocked his head. “Better listen to your babysitter, kid.”

The taller of the two turned his helmeted head to stare at him for a long, long moment while he held the shorter one back. Without turning his head away, he said, “Use a training room this time, and for goodness sake, try not to tear the building down.”

The short Spartan stopped struggling. “Fine,” he muttered, “but it’s not a building.”

“Then let’s hope, for everybody’s sake, you don’t tear the ship apart and send us tumbling into outer space.”

Roy stared at the two Spartans. _What have I gotten myself into?_

The short one lifted his chin. “Well? You gonna chicken out?”

Behind his helmet, Roy grinned. “Bring it.”


End file.
